History Breaks Down Into Images, Not Into

A Blind Determination To Save The Prestige Of Personal Existence, Rather Than, Through An Impartial Disdain For Its Impotence And Entanglement, At Least To Detach It From The Background Of Universal Delusion, Is Triumphing Almost Everywhere.

Death Is The Sanction Of Everything That The Storyteller Can Tell. He Has Borrowed His Authority From Death.

Not To Find One’s Way Around A City Does Not Mean Much. But To Lose One’s Way In A City, As One Loses One’s Way In A Forest, Requires Some Schooling.

There Is No Muse Of Philosophy, Nor Is There One Of Translation.

Work On A Good Piece Of Writing Proceeds On Three Levels: A Musical One, Where It Is Composed, An Architectural One, Where It Is Constructed, And Finally A Textile One, Where It Is Woven.